


Flightless

by amybri2002



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Human AU, M/M, This is gonna be a wild ride guys, this may be updated as we go along, winged au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-07-10 02:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15939890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amybri2002/pseuds/amybri2002
Summary: It wasn't as if Virgil couldn't fly. He was actually a pretty good flyer. The best in his class, he was constantly being told. That was probably more the fear of falling and dying, or the fear of failing the class, than actual skill, but it was still something. He was a careful flyer. And fast. Safe and efficient. So, if he really wanted to, Virgil could fly anywhere, no problem.Except, sometimes his wings would just... refuse to work. If Virgil was feeling particularly upset, or anxious, or... generally overwhelmed, his wings would just, kind of,close inon themselves. It was almost as if they would grow smaller. And then they wouldn't move, and Virgil would just be stuck with a useless clump of feathers on his back until he dealt with the problem at hand and they decided to be nice again.Today was one of those days.





	1. Chapter One

Virgil pulled his hood up over his head as he walked down the empty street. He buried his hands in his pockets and looked down at the pavement, trying his best to not attract any attention. He had left his earphones at home - _stupid, stupid, stupid_ \- and in turn had been searching for an excuse to not interact with any humans for the entire day.

That wasn't much of a problem, though. There was hardly anybody out on the streets to ruin his life. Not because it wasn't _busy_ \- it was actually _extremely_ busy, way more people out that unusual - but because the majority of people living in the city flew everywhere. It was easier, Virgil realised. Less effort than walking. Cheaper than public transport. Definitely cheaper than driving themselves. And when everybody - or _mostly_ everybody, at least - had a perfectly good pair of wings on their back, it was just the norm.

But Virgil choose to walk anyway. He enjoyed walking, for one. It was peaceful. Calming. For him, at least. And, on that particular day, Virgil's wing would just _not_ cooperate with him.

It wasn't as if Virgil couldn't fly. He was actually a pretty good flyer. The best in his class, he was constantly being told. That was probably more the fear of falling and dying, or the fear of failing the class, than actual skill, but it was still something. He was a careful flyer. And fast. Safe and efficient. So, if he really wanted to, Virgil could fly anywhere, no problem.

Except, sometimes his wings would just... refuse to work. If Virgil was feeling particularly upset, or anxious, or... generally overwhelmed, his wings would just, kind of, _close in_ on themselves. It was almost as if they would grow smaller. And then they wouldn't move, and Virgil would just be stuck with a useless clump of feathers on his back until he dealt with the problem at hand and they decided to be nice again.

Today was one of those days.

Virgil wasn't entirely sure what the problem was, either. Or, at least, he had an idea, several ideas, but... he didn't know. Which was possibly even worse than knowing and having to actually deal with the problem. He had no way to fix it, no way to get his wings to come back.

Maybe his wings were just being stubborn. He must have done something to offend them. He wouldn't have been surprised if that was the case.

"Hey," a voice called from behind him.

He froze. Was... Was the person speaking to him? There was nobody else around, so that would make sense, but...

"Hello?" That was the voice again. "Are you okay?" Definitely speaking to him.

His mind was screaming at him to continue walking, to walk faster, to _run_ if he needed to. His wings seemed to be threatening to completely fall off. He didn't recognise the voice, meaning this was a stranger, and he _hated_ speaking to strangers. God, why had he forgotten his earphones on that day, of all days?

Still, he turned around. His wings calmed down, loosening up a little underneath the hoodie. Maybe they had tensed up before at the thought of Virgil _not_ talking to this person? Or maybe not. Virgil never understood what his wings were trying to tell him.

"Hi," the person greeted, for the third time. They were shorter than Virgil, and younger, he was pretty sure. Probably in their teenage years - Virgil had just recently turned twenty. He figured they were around seventeen or eighteen. Their hair had been dyed a mixture of blue and pink, which Virgil thought looked pretty cool. And they didn't look to threatening, at least.

But one huge detail that Virgil noticed was that they didn't have any wings.

Of course, they could have been hidden like Virgil's, but considering what the person was wearing... He didn't think that was it.

Virgil forced out a smile. "Do I know you?"

They shook their head. "No. I've just, uh..." They drifted off, staring at Virgil, as if they had only just realised the situation they were in. "I'm Talyn, by the way," they introduced, holding out their hand to shake.

Virgil didn't take it. "Virgil."

Talyn nodded, and brought their arm back down to their side. "Anyway, Virgil, I just... I've seen you walking around and stuff, and couldn't help but wonder about your wings? 'Cause, like, as you can see..."

He nodded. "Yeah. No wings. I got it."

They smiled. "So, uh, is it the same for you?"

Virgil shook his head. "No. I, uh, they do exist. I just prefer walking." Not a lie, but not the full truth. He didn't want to tell this stranger about the problem with his wings.

"Oh." Talyn suddenly looked disappointed. "Okay. That's... cool."

"Yeah, um..." Virgil looked to the side. "I should probably go. I'm meant to be meeting up with someone." Again, not a lie. He _was_ supposed to be meeting up with someone later that day. Not for a few hours, though. He just really wanted to get out of there.

"That's fine, I don't want to intrude on your life or anything," Talyn said, smiling. "It was nice to meet you, at least."

Virgil smiled back. A genuine smile, this time. "Y-you too. I, uh, might see you around some time."

They nodded. "Yup! See ya, Virgil!" They gave him a small wave, before turning around and walking in the opposite direction.

Virgil let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. That was over, at least. He still had a few hours of free time before meeting up with his... with his friend? Did he count as a friend? They had never actually spoken in real life, so... probably not. They didn't even know each other. They had just emailed a few times, and figured it would be best to meet up before they moved in together in a few weeks time.

God, he would be _moving out_ in a few weeks time! And he would be moving in with someone who was basically a complete stranger. Like, he knew this person was safe, and all. His friend, Logan, was friends with this person. That was how Virgil found out about him. Virgil had needed a place to stay, and Logan's friend had been looking for someone to share his apartment. Logan had recommended Virgil, and... he supposed that was happening now.

Logan had said a few times that this person had struggled to find someone willing to share an apartment with him. Virgil hadn't been told any details on this, though. And from talking to him via email, he honestly didn't seem like a bad guy. In Virgil's opinion, anyone would be lucky to have this guy in their life. He was just so... positive, all the time. Everything he had said had managed to bring a smile to Virgil's face, which was hard to do.

Then again, Virgil had yet to meet this guy in real life. Maybe he was a completely different person than he was behind the screen. And Virgil couldn't help but feel nervous over meeting him.

Maybe _that_ was why his wings refused to worked. From the anxiety over meeting basically a complete stranger that he would be living with for the foreseeable future. Great.

But he didn't have to be thinking about that right now. That wouldn't _stop_ him from thinking, of course, but he knew that he needed to do something to take his mind off the entire situation. Music usually helped. It was just Virgil's luck that he didn't have his earphones with him that day. He didn't feel like walking the long way home, just to have to walk back into the city centre ready for the meetup.

The two had decided upon meeting in a small coffee shop near the park, almost in the exact middle of the city. They figured that meeting in a public place would be best. And coffee was always tempting. But that also meant that Virgil had to walk from the outskirts of the city all the way to the centre. Since he couldn't fly on that particular day (again, just his luck), he had had to take the hour-long walk there.

And of course he had gotten anxious about being late, and arrived in the city way to early. For the past hour or so, he had just been wandering around the streets, waiting.

Virgil felt a buzz in his pocket. He pulled out his phone, and glanced at the message.

**13:23 Logan:** _Are you still meeting up with Patton today?_

It took him a moment to figure out who he was talking about. Patton... the guy he would be living with. That was his name. Virgil quickly typed out a response.

**13:23 Virgil:** _yup. at three._

He put his phone away and continued walking, before feeling another buzz. Sighing, he pulled it back out.

**13:24 Logan:** _Are you in the city?_

**13:24 Virgil:** _yeah. by the church._

**13:25 Logan:** _Would you be able to meet up with me for an hour or so? I have a problem with my wings._

Virgil hesitated. He... did need an distraction. And hanging with Logan was the best distraction there could be. Logan was his _best_ friend. His... only friend, really. And Logan was always asking for help with his wings - Virgil knew exactly what he needed. It wouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. Ten minutes to walk there. Five minutes introduction. Half an hour hanging out after fixing the wings. Then it would almost be time to go to Patton. That would help ease his anxiety, at least.

**13:27 Virgil:** _sure. i'll be there in ten._

**13:27 Logan:** _It's only a two minute flight, Virgil._

**13:27 Virgil:** _bad day._

Logan would know what that meant.

**13:28 Logan:** _Ah. Understood. See you later._

**13:28 Virgil:** _see ya._

No questions asked. Thank God. Although, he did presume that Logan would ask a million questions once he arrived. Virgil wasn't planning on answering any of them.

But he didn't have to worry about that right now. He had to keep telling himself to not worry about it. He began the journey to Logan's apartment.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i realised that i didn't really say anything to introduce the last chapter, so here i am now, introducing y'all to this this. which you guys really seemed to like? thank you so much to the comments and kudos and stuff on the last chapter. i'm super glad that y'all liked this. 
> 
> and yeah! i'm super excited for this entire thing tbh! i love winged aus, and i have so much stuff planned for this, it's unreal. i cannot wait to share some of this stuff with y'all. 
> 
> but, before we move onto this chapter, just a quick **trigger warning** for y'all: there is mentions of injury and blood in this chapter.

Virgil arrived at Logan's street three minutes early. And since he had specified ten minutes, he felt as if he shouldn't have arrived at the door any earlier than that. So for a couple of minutes, Virgil leant against the wall of a shop on the corner of the street, looking up to the sky to watch people fly by. None of them seemed to notice him, thankfully. If they had, they probably would have assumed that he didn't have wings, and that wouldn't go down well. He didn't want people throwing him dirty looks that afternoon. He really wasn't in the mood for that.

Three minutes went by too quickly. Sighing, he moved away from the wall, and continued walking down the street, stopping outside of the block of apartments that Logan lived in. Logan was a student at the nearby university, but had somehow got enough money to rent a fairly new apartment. A nice one, as well. Modern. With plenty of space. Virgil had no idea how he had done it.

Logan had actually offered for Virgil to move in with him, but Virgil had refused. He knew he wouldn't be making enough money to pay for rent, and despite all of Logan's best efforts, there was no way he was going to let Logan pay for him. There wasn't a spare room, anyway. At least, not a proper spare room. The apartment was made more for one person, or for a couple. Logan was better off living there alone.

Virgil walked into the lobby of the apartment block, and made a move to the stairs. Not a lot of people used the stairs in this building - most people would just fly straight up to their own apartment, with no need to actually walk through the main lobby except for events. But, of course, since Virgil was unable to fly on that day, the stairs were the only option. He tried to ignore the stares from an older couple sitting at a table in the corner.

As he was walking upstairs, Virgil realised that he would arrive around three minutes late anyway. There had been no reason to hang by the corner. Oh well, that was in the past now.

Except... now he'd have to deal with the anxiety over Logan being mad at him for being late. He had said ten minutes. It had been closer to fifteen minutes. Especially after he halted on the stairs, trying to think of an excuse for his lateness. Stopped for a while, actually. On the third floor. Two floors below Logan's apartment.

Make that sixteen minutes.

But Logan wouldn't mind, would he? Logan was his best friend. Logan wouldn't care. Virgil would be _fine_.

Taking in a deep breath, Virgil continued walking up the stairs, and didn't slow down until he reached Logan's door. He brought a hand up, and knocked on the door gently. The door opened a second later.

"You're six minutes late," a monotonous voice said immediately.

Virgil took a step back, and looked up at Logan, who was definitely taller than usual. A pair of multicoloured butterfly wings spread out behind his back, fluttering quickly. Virgil could _hear_ the fluttering. For some reason, it still took him a moment to realise that Logan was hovering.

"I, uh..." Virgil looked down, fixing his eyes on the bottom of his friends blue tie. He could feel his shoulder tensing up. And his wings. That couldn't be good.

Logan blew a tiny bit of air out of his nose. Virgil imagined that his lip had perked up at the side. That was basically the equivalent of Logan laughing, Virgil _knew_ that for a fact. His friend wasn't mad.

"Don't worry, Virgil," Logan said, calmly. He began to lower himself, continuing to flutter down until his feet touched the floor, leaving him an inch or two shorter than Virgil. He could see his face properly now, and he was correct to think that Logan was smiling. "I just so happened to watch you walk into the building, and was beginning to wonder why you were taking so long to come up the stairs. People giving you trouble?"

Virgil quickly shook his head. "No. Nothing happened. I just, uh, things..."

Logan nodded. "That is fine. I will not push any further, if you do not wish to talk about it. I am aware of the problem with your wings, so no need to explain that."

Virgil let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, uh, about that, you wanted my help with something?"

He already knew what would have happened. Logan had called him enough times to ask for help with his wings. The problem with Logan was that his wings were _extremely_ delicate, which was probably the worst thing to happen to a person like Logan. Logan was always busy, always scurrying about, always needing to be in another place. He flew fast and far, even though he knew the damage that would do to his paper-thin wings. They cracked so often that Virgil had lost count. Cracked just like glass.

"Come on in," Logan invited, stepping aside to let Virgil enter the room.

Almost out of habit, Virgil made his way to the other side, to a wall completely filled with glass, a giant window. The window was really more of a door, though, Virgil thought. He was well aware of its ability to split directly down the middle, where it lead out onto a balcony that served as the usual entrance to the apartment.

Another reason why Virgil was hesitant to agree to move in with Logan was this window. Sure, it was nice and all, with all of the natural light flooding into the room, and the beautiful view of the city skyline, _especially_ beautiful at night, but... anybody could see into the room. There were no curtains, either. No way to hide anything. Virgil wouldn't have been able to deal with that.

"So," Virgil finally said, turned around to face Logan, "what happened?"

Without a word, Logan turned around with his back to Virgil, displaying several large cracks running over his wings, and a part that had completely chipped off. Virgil held back a gasp. It was possibly the worst case he had ever seen. Including the time Logan had fallen out of that tree when the two were younger. This... was not at all good.

"What... What happened?" Virgil repeated his question, his initial concern over Logan moulding into confusion.

Logan turned back around to face Virgil. "I've been awfully busy lately. Flying between the university, work, here, the next city over-"

"You've been flying to the _next city over_?!" Virgil exclaimed.

Logan nodded. "Yes?"

"Dude." Virgil stepped closer to Logan. "You know your wings can't handle a journey that long."

"I needed to go, though," Logan argued. "I had a few supplies over there that needed picking up, and they were _crucial_ to my research, and-"

Virgil cut him off by holding a hand in the air. "You mean to tell me, that you flew for two hours to the next city over, and then flew back _carrying supplies_?"

Logan frowned. "Yes, that is what I am telling you."

Virgil sighed. "Logan, buddy, you- you can't do that."

Logan held his hand up, pointing to Virgil with a sort of finger-gun. "But I did. Three times, actually."

" _Three times_?!"

"Okay, okay, I know it sounds bad, but-"

"Logan." Virgil shook his head. "Just... sit down. You still got the stuff from last time?"

"Yes, in the draws in my study, second draw down," he replied, as he sat down on the sofa as instructed.

Virgil smiled. "Great. You stay there. And, Logan?"

"Yes?"

"Next time you need supplies picking up, give me a call," he offered. "I can fly much further than you. I... I don't want you getting hurt again."

"Noted."

Virgil gave him a quick smile, before heading into the study to grab... what was essentially a bandage. A bandage for wings. Or, like, cream, or something. You would rub it over the injured part of the wing, and then wrap something similar to clingfilm around them. After a day or two, the cracks would disappear, and it would be safe to take the wrapping off and fly again. Logan had designed it all himself.

Of course, the wings could heal naturally on their own. This had been a problem for Logan his entire life. His wings were just too delicate. Sure, it was a known fact that those kind of wings were delicate, and really built more for decoration. People with those wings wouldn't do as much flying as people with feathered wings. They were usually advised not to, at least. A lot of them became performers.

Logan, though? Logan could never do that. He hated that entire idea. Ever since he had began to understand the concept of flight, and school had started to teach him how to fly and take care of wings, he had been angry that certain kind of wings were deemed 'better' than others. He hated being told that he couldn't do a certain lesson because of his wings, or that he had to take it easy. If there was one thing that Virgil had learned, it was to never tell Logan that he couldn't do something.

So Logan had spent the last five years of his life working on a way to make his wings stronger. Conducting experiments, often on himself, to see if he could do anything to help people like him. To help people who had limited flight, or who couldn't fly at all. Virgil had supported him through it all, of course - he actually thought it was brilliant that Logan was doing this, considering the problems with his own wings. Although, he knew how difficult it must have been for Logan. Going between school, work, and his own experiments... Virgil had no idea how Logan did it all.

Virgil returned to the living room, and sat next to Logan on the sofa, noticing that his shirt had been removed. Without a word, Logan turned his body slightly so that Virgil could reach his wings. He got straight to work, running the cold cream over all the visible cracks. Logan didn't flinch one bit. Virgil was glad about that, at least.

But when he moved to the next wing, Virgil suddenly jumped back, a flash of fear rushing through his body. Was that...

"You're bleeding," he whispered, staring at the cut running down the centre of his back, right down the middle of the space between his wings. Looking back, it probably wasn't as bad as Virgil had originally thought, but the shock of seeing it, and the general concern that he had for his friend... His heart wouldn't calm down.

"Ah, yes, I was going to tell you about that," Logan stated. "I suppose I must have forgotten. Do not fret, though. It does not hurt."

"How... How did this even happen?"

Logan was silent for a moment, presumably whilst he thought about how to explain it. "You know how wings occasionally dig into your skin, when you are in a position when it takes more work to fly?"

Virgil shook his head. "No?"

Logan sighed. "Of course, you wouldn't experience that... In any case, on my way back from the city earlier, I was carrying a particularly heavy box of supplies, and it was fairly windy. My wings did try their best, but..." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It'll heal over."

"Logan, buddy, that... that isn't normal." Virgil took a deep breath. "You should probably see someone about that."

"I don't see why I should. It hasn't effected my life in any way in the past."

"You are literally bleeding, Logan."

"Just do the wings, you have a guy to meet up with in less than an hour."

Virgil blinked. What was he... Oh, yeah, Patton. "You are completely right. I'm gonna have to clean up with wound as well, though," he said, as he began to wrap the wing-bandage around Logan's left wing.

"That is understandable," Logan replied, twitching a little at the pressure on his wings. Keeping them confined like this probably wasn't the best idea - they were always pretty weak as it was - but Logan was impatient. He couldn't deal with waiting for weeks, possibly months, to be able to fly again. And it _was_ safe. He had done it enough times before.

Virgil moved to the right wing, and was done in a matter of minutes. He stood up, and walked back into the kitchen, taking a cloth and dampening it with tap water before returning to the sofa. He began to dab on the wound, trying his best to ignore Logan's shoulders hunching up in slight pain, and managed to clean up most of the dried up blood, leaving a clean cut down the middle. That would heal up on it's on. Maybe leave a scar, but nothing too bad. It wasn't as if Logan didn't already have scars.

"There, you should be all good," Virgil said, moving back.

Logan turned around around to face him, and gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you."

Virgil gave him a single nod. "No problem."

Logan hummed in thought. "Your wings are still not in working condition, correct?"

"Yeah," Virgil confirmed, frowning.

"Would you like me to fly you over to the park?" Logan offered.

"Dude." Virgil shook his head, almost in disbelief. "You know you can't fly until your wings are healed."

He sighed. "Yes, I suppose you are right... Have a safe journey, though."

Virgil smiled. "I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

"Virgil."

"Yes, Logan, I will have a safe journey."

Virgil stood up, ready to leave, since he had to be there in half an hour. However, before he could leave, Logan called him back. "Uh, Virgil?"

"Yeah?"

"When you..." Logan paused, as if he was trying to figure out what to say. That was strange. Logan always knew exactly what he wanted to say. He didn't hesitate. Never. "When you meet with Patton," he continued, "just, don't... don't freak out, okay?"

Virgil frowned. "What do you..."

"He's a sweet boy, really," Logan interrupted, "and... he really needs this. So, just..."

"What exactly is up with this Patton dude?" Virgil asked.

Logan hesitated. Again. That never happened. "You'll find out. I promise, he's great. I'm just saying that, whatever you're imagining, it's probably... not... like that. I don't know. Just-"

"I got it," Virgil cut in. "It'll be fine. We both need this. It's not like I'm going to turn it down."

Logan let out a sigh of relief. "Okay. I... Do you want to meet up at some point tomorrow?" he invited.

Virgil shrugged. "Sure. Maybe my wings will be back by then."

Logan smiled. "Maybe. I'll see you around."

Virgil gave him a salute. "See ya!" He spun around on his heel, and left the apartment.


	3. Chapter Three

Virgil's eyes glanced over to the door for the third time. He had been sitting in the coffee shop for a few minutes now, going between scrolling through his phone and staring into space. Patton hadn't arrived yet. He should have been there five minutes ago.

This _was_ the right place, right? Virgil had checked his emails a couple times, just to make sure. Nothing had been said to indicate any differently. Patton hadn't sent anything new since the day before.

Nobody else was in the coffee shop other than the person behind the counter, who was also scrolling through her phone. She hadn't seemed to notice Virgil yet, thankfully. It was only a matter of time, though. Hopefully Patton would arrive soon. The longer he had to wait, the worse this idea sounded, the more he wanted to get out of there and get back home to safety.

A bell rang, signalling that somebody had entered. Virgil glanced up. It was a guy, around the same age as Virgil, maybe a little older. Shorter, though - at least a few inches shorter. Most of his hair was covered by a baseball cap, but a few curls had escaped out the front, a mixture of light brown and various shades of pink and purple. It looked as if it had been dyed many times. He wore a thick-rimmed frame of glasses, and a cardigan over his blue polo shirt, with brown shorts hanging down to his knees. 

The man looked around the coffee shop, before setting eyes on Virgil. Virgil found himself sinking into his seat, wishing to disappear, but suddenly the man was closer. Virgil could see his face more clearly now, and could almost count every single freckle across his face. He found himself doing that, as he waited for the man to speak or move on.

"Hey, uh, I'm looking for someone called Virgil," he said. "You wouldn't happen to know him, would you?"

Virgil was silent for a moment as he processed the question. He hadn't seen this guy around, and had no idea why he was looking for this person, or why he would ask Virgil if he had- wait. The man was looking for Virgil. _He_ was Virgil.

"That would be me," Virgil replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man grinned. "Awesome!" He took a seat opposite Virgil. "I'm Patton, but you probably already know that."

Virgil blinked. Patton...

It suddenly occurred to him that he had been _waiting for a guy named Patton._ This was Patton! So this _was_ the right place.

But, looking at Patton, Virgil felt as if something... wasn't quite right. Logan had warned him to not freak out, but he couldn't figure out for the life of him what there was to freak out over. This guy looked like the least threatening person Virgil had ever seen. And nothing appeared to be wrong with him. Not that Virgil could say anything.

"Yeah, I, uh, did... know that," Virgil stuttered, not really know how to reply. "Uh, can I buy you a drink?"

Patton shook his head, smiling. "No, you're the one agreeing to move in, I think the least I can do is buy the drinks." He stood back up. "What do you drink?"

Virgil hesitated. This guy really didn't need to buy the drinks. It was _Patton_ who had offered for him to move in the first place! "I, uh, you don't need-"

"Ah, don't worry, kiddo," Patton interrupted. "It's really no problem. Now, let me guess, coffee?"

Virgil nodded. "Y-yeah. Coffee. Any kind is fine."

Patton grinned. "Great. I'll be right back." He made his way up to the counter, leaving Virgil sitting alone at the table once again. And now that he had his back faced towards him, Virgil noticed one huge detail that he had missed.

Patton didn't have wings.

Or, at least, he didn't have any wings that Virgil could _see_. It was possible that the wings were hidden underneath the beige cardigan he was wearing. They could have just been small. Or maybe he had the same thing as Virgil. But... Virgil doubted that. Logan probably would have told him, if that was the case. And Patton didn't seem like the kind of person who would have that problem, anyway.

Which left the option of him hiding his wings. That, too, sounded unrealistic. Virgil couldn't think of any reasons as to why anybody would _want_ to hide them. Even if there was a reason, Virgil wouldn't think that it would be worth it, with all the stares that you'd get. Some people born without wings would _buy_ a pair of wings for themselves to _avoid_ those stares.

So that option was also ruled out, unless there was something that Virgil didn't know. But for now, he could assume that Patton was missing his wings.

He didn't really have a problem with that. It would be pretty hypocritical of him if he did.

Patton soon returned with the drinks, and sat back down. Virgil thanked Patton, and took a sip of his coffee. Patton smiled.

"So, Virgil, what brings you into the city?" Patton asked.

"I, um..." He bit his lip. "I had to move out of my old house, and living in the city just makes everything easier. Like, everything's a lot closer."

"That's the exact reason I came!" Patton exclaimed, before realising how loud he had spoke. He lowered his voice. "I mean, I had university, and my parents wanted me out of the house."

Virgil smirked. "So you moved into an apartment for two people, that you couldn't afford to pay for on your own." He immediately regret saying that, worrying that it had sounded mean, but Patton... seemed like he found it funny. Virgil thought.

"Hey, I was planning to have a roommate from the start!" Patton defended. "It's just... harder to find a roommate than you'd think."

"Yeah, Logan told me you were having trouble."

"He did?" Patton asked, tilting his head. "What did he say?"

All of a sudden, Virgil realised the situation he had gotten himself into. He couldn't tell Patton exactly was Logan had said. He couldn't tell Patton about the fact that Logan had told him to 'not freak out' upon meeting Patton. But that was the only time he had really gone into the situation, other than the general 'he's having trouble finding a roommate'. So there wasn't much to tell Patton, anyway. Virgil figured he could probably get away with it.

"He, uh, he just said you were having trouble," Virgil replied. "And that you needed a roommate as soon as possible."

"Okay." Patton brought it - thank God. "He's told me a lot about you, though," he added after, smirking a little.

Virgil frowned. What could Logan possibly have said to Patton to made him smirk like that? It hadn't been anything embarrassing, had it? Surely he couldn't have said anything bad about Virgil...

"Don't worry, all good," Patton said. "He said that you were perfect for me. And I guess I can see why now."

That didn't add up. What was it that was so perfect about Virgil? There wasn't anything that Virgil could think off. "Why?"

Patton gestured towards Virgil. "No wings."

Virigl blinked. What was he... Oh. Right. His wings were still being uncooperative. He supposed Patton wouldn't know about that. Meaning he'd have to explain. "Uh, actually, I-"

"It's all good," Patton interrupted, not even giving Virgil a chance to explain himself. "I don't have any either. It'll be so much better living with someone like you, won't it?"

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, I guess, but-"

"I'm looking so forward for you finally moving in!" Patton exclaimed, changing the conversation. At that point, Virgil gave up. Patton would have to find out about the wings eventually anyway. If they were going to live together, it would be inevitable. So, for now, there was no reason to tell him, right? There would be no reason to ruin to his chances of making Patton believe they had something in common. Patton seemed really excited over the whole ordeal. Virgil didn't want to ruin that.

"Yeah, it'll be great," Virgil mumbled.

"So what do you do?" Patton asked.

Virgil didn't know how to reply to that. "What do I... do?"

"Like, do you have a job? School?"

"Oh, right." That made more sense. "Yeah, I'm in university, studying..." He paused. Patton thought that he didn't have wings, meaning he couldn't say what he was actually doing - a course that required an awful lot of flying. He was actually training to be part of the airforce, in the search and rescue branch. This had been something that he had been pushed towards ever since he was a kid, due to his flying skills. He wasn't sure why he had even agreed to do it, as it wasn't particularly something that interested him, but...

He supposed the real reason was that he wanted to help people. Considering the problems with his own wings, and with Logan's, he always felt that it was his duty to save people who couldn't save themselves.

But getting into the search and rescue branch in this society was hard - it would have to take him years of training to be able to search from the skies, to be able to get people out of places they couldn't simply escape from, and to know all of the rules and regulations about it. That was why he had to go to university - for the law aspect of it. Which he hated, but if you knew that stuff, you would get paid more. Virgil had done his research.

But he couldn't tell Patton any of that. "Uh, I'm doing a course on art," he said. That wasn't entirely true, but he did enjoy art, and was technically taking art lessons on the side, so he wasn't exactly lying either.

Patton gasped. "Oh my goodness, me too! I've been doing the art course they have up at the university for a year now." His smile faltered. "How come I've never seen you?"

Shoot. He was so close. "I, uh, I'm just starting the university course this year," he said. "I've been taking private art lessons for the past couple years, though. Decided it was time to move up to uni."

Patton grinned. "That's awesome! I can give you some pointers, if you need them."

"Thanks."

The two continued to talk for a couple hours more, about nothing, really. Small talk. Questions about their future. With Virgil trying his best to avoid the topics of wings, for fear that he'd let it slip that he does have wings, and Patton would just leave, and he would no longer have a place to stay. He wouldn't want that.

But still, for a while, Virgil actually... enjoyed himself. Patton was easy to talk to. Friendly. Virgil felt as if he could say anything, and Patton just wouldn't care. It was... almost freeing, to not have to worry so much about saying something that would ruin everything. It almost made Virgil feel safe enough to tell Patton that he had lied about the wings.

He couldn't do that. Patton would hate him. Patton had only just met him, and Virgil would have already screwed it up. Patton would just have to find out later. That would be fine, right?

"I should probably get going now," Patton announced, finishing his fourth cup of coffee (which Virgil had brought).

Virgil nodded. "That's cool. I'll see you in a couple weeks?"

Patton smiled. "Which way are you going?"

"I'm gonna hang here for a while," Virgil replied. "I, um, I hang here a lot. It's cool. Have some work to do, anyway."

"Okay. Don't stay out too late! Patton stood up, and waved at Virgil before beginning to make his way out. As he left, Virgil noticed something that only left him filled with confusion - a single black feather floating down, landing at Patton's feet. It... It looked like it had come from Patton. But that wasn't possible, right? Patton had said himself - he didn't have any wings.

Half an hour later, when Virgil decided to head back home, he picked up the feather on his way out, and examined it closer. A feather from a wing, no doubts. And it seemed about the right length, the right weight, the right style for someone of Patton's age.

The feather had to have come from Patton, but... _how_?

 


	4. Chapter Four

"How long have you been interested in performing?"

"Gosh... Since, well, since forever."

"Have you ever wanted to do anything else?"

"No, this has been my only dream. And I am so lucky that it all worked out."

"With your wings, shouldn't you be doing something more useful?"

The question caught Roman off guard. He had been answering fans questions for half an hour or so, just before his show. Only it wasn't really 'fans' - sure, there were a _few_ fans in the crowd, but it was mostly news presenters. People who most likely didn't actually like him, and just wanted to get paid. Which he didn't mind, but of course it meant there would be some questions he really wouldn't want to answer.

This was one of them.

Because the reporters always had a point - he _could_ have been doing something better with his wings. That didn't mean he wanted to. Or was able to, really. He wasn't the best flyer. As much as he liked to deny that, he knew it was a fact. But performing was always his dream. And the fact that he was able to do it? That was awesome.

"I don't think a person's wings should determine what they do with their life," Roman answered. "If you have a dream, go for it. I had a dream, and I went for it. Even though, yes, with these wings, I could be doing something more 'useful' - but, even then, what determines 'useful'? There are hundreds of people that come up to me and tell me just how much I've helped them with my music. Is that not considered useful?"

Hopefully they brought that. Roman always did he best to avoid that question by rambling on about dreams. About what people hoped to do with their lives. About what _he_ hoped to do with his life.

Maybe because he couldn't accept the truth. He could never let the truth out, either. If the true answer to that question for out, Roman's entire career would collapse.

A few more people shouted out questions. Roman held his hands up to silence everyone.

"I think that's enough questions for today," he announced. "I have to go get ready for the performance later."

The crowd moved forward, shouting his name and waving cameras in his face, following him all the way to the entrance of the theatre. As soon as he got in and closed the door, he leant against the wall, taking a deep breath. He loved all the publicity, he really did, but sometimes it was... a lot. He couldn't always deal with it all.

After a few moments of rest, Roman continued the familiar journey to his changing room. He had performed in this theatre so many times before, going all the way back to his very first days of musical theatre. Since then, he had grown in popularity, and began recording and performing his own songs. Now he was touring the country, and he could not have been happier. He was staying in town for a few days, as well. Staying in the same place where he had started his journey. His true home. 

He turned the corner. A group of people were standing outside his changing room. He really shouldn't have been surprised. 

One of them must have spotted him, because the next thing he knew, the group was running towards him, and he was running away. He knew this place like the back of his hand - turn left here, up the stairs, turn right, into the storage room. He glanced through a gap in the door, watching the crowd rush past. He let out a sign of relief, and closed the door. 

"You shouldn't be in here," a voice said. 

His heart starting to race, Roman turned around. A man stood in the corner. Roman didn't recognise him. But he didn't look like a threat. 

"And you should be?" Roman asked, raising an eyebrow. Who did this guy think he was, anyway? Roman was allowed in there! This theatre was basically his home, of course he'd be allowed in here! 

"Yes, I should be in here," the man replied, unfazed. "It is my job to be in here."

Roman stared at him. "Oh." He supposed the man worked in the theatre. That would explain why he would be in the storage room. 

"So, why are you in here?" he asked. 

Roman was silent for a moment. He stepped further into the room, making his way closer to the man. In the dim light, he could just about make out the guy's features - long, sharp face, perfectly groomed dark hair, a blue tie around his neck. His wings were spread out, thin, but it was too dark to make out the colours. Roman could tell they were delicate, though. He could have sworn he saw a crack. There was no way he had, though. The darkness was probably making him see things. 

"I was looking for a place to hide," Roman admitted. 

"Hide?"

"News reporters. They were outside my changing room."

"Oh, you're the performer?" the man asked. 

Roman nodded. "Did you not already know that?"

"I don't tend to pay attention to who is performing on any specific night," he explained. "This is just a part time job. Whoever's performing doesn't concern me."

Roman frowned. "Right... So, you work here?"

"I have already confirmed that."

"What's your name?" Roman asked, taking a seat on top of one of the wooden boxes on the floor. Hopefully the man wouldn't mind - if he did, then too bad. Roman wasn't budging. 

"Logan," he stated. "I hope you don't plan to stay here for long."

Roman shrugged. "I'd rather not go out into the theatre with people waiting to bombard me with questions," he replied. "I do need to be on stage in an hour, though."

Logan hummed. "I can escort you back to your room, if you so wish, Mr...?"

"Prince Roman," he introduced. 

"Mr Roman," Logan finished. 

"Well," Roman said, "I would appreciate some help getting back there." 

"Very well." Logan walked to the other side of the room. He opened the door slightly, and peeked outside. "Nobody is in the hall," he stated. "You should be alright to walk back." 

Roman smiled and jumped up, running up to Logan's side. "And are you going to walk me there?"

Logan tilted his head. "Yes, I believe that was the plan," he said.

Roman grinned. "Perfect!" He opened the door fully, and stepped out, closely followed by Logan. The two began to walk down the hallway, back in the direction that Roman had ran from. He supposed that this little detour would be distracting Logan from his work, but at that point Roman didn't care. He needed to get to his changing room, and Logan was there to help him not get mobbed on the way. It was a perfect plan.

"I'm assuming you are a singer," Logan said, looked over at Roman as they walked. Now that they were in full light, Roman could see Logan's wings clearly. And they were... a work of art. Butterfly wings, for starters, something that Roman had always wished his could have. And multicoloured, as well? Logan had hit the jackpot.

But Roman supposed he was happy with his angel wings. Pure white, fluffy, huge. He could dye them, at least - earlier on that day, Roman had gone to get them dyed a beautiful shade of red around the bottom of each feather.

"Do you not know who I am?" Roman asked.

Logan shook his head. "I have never seen you before."

"Prince Roman?" he said, once again telling Logan his name in hopes of triggering a memory. "Surely you've heard of Prince Roman?"

"I'm afraid I have not," he confirmed.

Roman hummed. Well, not everybody would know about him, he supposed. He was still starting. Although, considering how often he had been on the news recently, it surprised him that Logan didn't at least recognise the name.

"In any case," Roman said, "I am a singer. Write my own songs and everything." He smiled.

"That's nice," Logan replied.

"So what do you do around here?" Roman asked.

Logan hesitated. Why had he hesitated? He did work here, right? "I have a job working behind the bar on certain nights," he finally answered. "It's only temporary, of course. I'm studying at the university, and doing my own work in the laboratory up by the cathedral. Working on... wing science."

Roman raised an eyebrow. "What kind of wing science?" He had always been interested in that. For reasons that didn't matter.

"Artificial wings, mostly," Logan said. "And also... strengthening wings. Like artificial wings, but aimed specifically at people with wings who wish for them to be... better."

Roman blinked. "What do you mean by better?" As far as he was aware, all wings were _amazing_! It didn't matter how 'strong' they were, or what jobs they were 'suited' for - they were beautiful, stunning, and... allowed people to be free. If he could, Roman would have made it so that everyone had wings. So that everyone had the perfect pair of wings. And any pair of wings could count, for Roman believed that all wings were perfect, just the way they were.

"There are certain wing types out there that just... do not allow their owner to do anything that the owner wishes to do," Logan explained. "I know for certain that there are people out there who may resent their wings, for they do not serve the purpose that wings are supposed to. I... I am one of those people, so I can speak from experience when I say that some people wish for their wings to be able to fly further, and the like. I suppose that means I am mostly doing this research for myself, as I do wish to make my own wings 'better' to allow me to fly further distances and to carry more equipment if needed, but, uh, this whole thing could really help people out, y'know?"

Logan had ranted a lot. Roman couldn't a believe a word that he had said.

"Dude!" He stopped in the hallway, causing Logan to look at him in confusion. "Your wings are beautiful! Why would you want to change them?"

"I... They do not serve the purpose that I wish them too," Logan said. "I would much rather have wings that aren't conventionally 'attractive' than wings that don't allow me to fly as much as I want to."

Roman still couldn't understand him. Roman seriously would have _killed_ for those wings, and Logan just wanted some that were 'better'? It made no sense. Roman _could_ _not_ understand him.

"Well, in my opinion, I'd say that you're lucky to have wings as beautiful as those," Roman complimented - hoping that Logan did actually take it as a compliment. "There are so many people out there that would love to have that kind of wing."

"But... I cannot do anything with them," he said.

"Yes, you _can_!" Roman exclaimed. "You can fly with those. Just because you can't fly as well as others, doesn't mean you can't fly at all. You can't decide your worth based on your wings. There are people out there who don't even have wings - think about that! Does a lack of wings stop a person from being the best that they could be? No! And neither should  _your_ wings! You, Logan Whatever-Your-Surname-Is, need to go out there, and show the world what you can do! Allow your wings to be free, and, in turn, free yourself!"

The two fell into a deep silence as Logan processed what Roman had said. Roman supposed he may have been a little dramatic, and that may have scared Logan a little, but his point still stood! Logan should have been _proud_ of his wings!

"Right," Logan said, sounding uncertain. "Well, we've arrived at your room. I wish you the best of luck for your show, Roman."

Logan walked back down the hallway, moving further and further away from him. "It's Prince Roman!" Roman shouted. But Logan was already gone.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: brief description of panic attack

Virgil jolted awake at the sound of breaking glass. A million thoughts rushed to his mind, a million questions, a million different possibilities. What had broken? Was it safe? Had the window smashed? Had somebody broken in? Was anybody hurt? Had _Thomas_ been hurt?

He jumped out of his bed, and rushed downstairs, not even touching the floor as he flew as fast as he could down to the source of the sound. He reached the kitchen in mere seconds, and noticed Thomas - his younger brother - standing to the side, staring intently as the shattered glass on the floor.

"What happened?" Virgil asked, hovering up besides Thomas. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Don't worry, Verge," Thomas said calmly, holding out a hand to touch Virgil's shoulder and gently push him towards the ground. "I just dropped a glass."

"You're not bleeding, are you?" Virgil lifted up Thomas's hand, his arm, checking all over his body for any signs of blood.

Thomas just laughed. "Virgil, I assure you I am completely fine."

Virgil looked at Thomas, then at the surrounding area. He... Everything was completely fine. Thomas was right. Virgil was just overreacting - again. His wings were still working perfectly, at least. They always did when the danger concerned Thomas. Thomas was the one person that Virgil knew he would always be able to protect.

Virgil took several deep breaths to calm him down, to bring his heart beat back to the normal rate. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. He repeated that again and again until he could think clearly. Until he his eyes could pick out every single shard of glass on the floor, and he could bring himself to get a dustpan and brush to clean them up. Thomas tried to help, but Virgil had insisted that he could do it himself. He didn't want Thomas to get hurt.

God, what was he going to do when he moved out? If Virgil wasn't there to make sure Thomas would be alright, would he be?

_Yes, of course he will_ , the rational part of his brain stated. _He's only a year younger than you. He's moving in with his boyfriend. He'll be fine._

Every other part of his mind was screaming at him, telling him that he couldn't count on Thomas' boyfriend to ensure that Thomas stays safe, but he knew that he could. There was no reason to be worried. He couldn't afford to be worried.

Especially when he would be moving in with Patton later that day. It had been a couple weeks since their first meeting, but the two had been emailing constantly, making sure that they were both ready. Virgil still hadn't told Patton about his wings.

"Okay, happy now?" Thomas asked, as Virgil scrapped the last of the glass into the bin. "You're not going to freak out again?"

Virgil gave him a small smile. "It's all cool. I was just worried, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it - overprotective older brother and all."

Virgil snorted. "I guess you could say that."

"You don't have to be worried anymore though, since you're leaving me in a few hours," Thomas said, faking-hurt.

"Ha, I'll still be plenty worried, little guy." He ruffles his younger brothers hair, before beginning to leave the room.

"We- We're the same height!" Thomas called after him.

Virgil sighed, shaking his head. "I don't see your point."

Laughing along, Thomas followed Virgil out of the kitchen, and back up to Virgil's room. It was almost a sad sight, actually, to see Virgil's room like how it was. Completely empty, other than the simple bed with plain white quilts in the corner and the cardboard boxes stacked up against the walls. Virgil was all ready to leave.

"What time are you going round to the new apartment?" Thomas inquired.

Virgil hummed in thought. "Around twelve, I think? Start moving at half eleven at the earliest, hopefully finish by four. I'll need a few journeys, probably."

"You need any help carrying anything?" Thomas offered.

"That would be amazing." Virgil gave him a thankful smile, before it faded into a frown. "Are you okay to fly?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "I'm always okay to fly? _I_ should be the one asking _you_ if you're okay to fly."

Virgil blinked. "Touché."

"So... are you?"

"How do you think I got down to the kitchen so quickly?"

"Good point."

The two stood in silence for a moment. Virgil was half-tempted to go back to his bed and return to his peaceful sleep, but he knew he'd have to leave soon anyway, so there was no point. Honestly, he could have started leaving that very moment. He had the keys to the apartment, and he hadn't specified a time with Patton. Except, he knew Patton would be in the apartment early morning, before he left for work around midday. Whilst a small part of Virgil did want to start moving while Patton was still around, he knew that would be a bad idea. The anxiety from that thought wasn't exactly appealing. So around midday it was.

"When are you moving in with your boyfriend?" Virgil asked to break the silence.

"A couple weeks," Thomas replied. "Just enough time to finish things around here. Packing and stuff, y'know?"

"I know." Virgil smiled. "You'll be okay by yourself, right?"

"Of course, Verge," he promised. "Michael will be around anyway. He said he'll help out with packing. And you're only, like, a fifteen minute flight away."

The two talked some more, before heading back downstairs to grab a quick breakfast, and then beginning to move the boxes from Virgil's room down the hallway by the front door. They figured out that it would only take two journey's to get everything down into the city, which shouldn't take them too long, since they were both fairly strong and fast flyers. At half eleven precisely, the brothers set off with the first few boxes, flying next to one another in a comfortable silence.

For a while, Virgil felt completely content. There was something relaxing about flying, some that helped to calm him down. Especially when it was a journey that he knew so well. His heart was actually beating at a normal rate for the first time in ages, and a wide smile was present on his face.

As soon as he saw Patton standing outside the apartment, his face dropped. His heart rate increased all of the sudden. The world felt as if it was closing in on him. He shot back around the corner, and fell to the floor, dropping the box onto the pavement below. Wrapping his hoodie tighter around his body, he tried to control his breathing, his heart rate, but he _couldn't breathe._

Patton shouldn't have been there. He wasn't supposed to be. And Virgil couldn't face Patton - not yet. Definitely not like this. Not with tears streaming down his face.

A hand grabbed his shoulder. He ducked away, bringing up his own hand for protection. But it was Thomas - just Thomas. He moved back.

Thomas was speaking to him. Saying something. Something important. Virgil couldn't hear a word.

Thomas must have noticed Virgil's confused, scared stare. He stopped trying to talk, and just wrapped his arms around his brothers shoulder, bringing him closer to his chest. Virgil listened to the beat of Thomas' heart - almost as fast as his own. He felt Thomas' breath on his neck, and tried his best to replicate the pattern. It took a while, but eventually he could hear again.

"You're okay," Thomas whispered, "you're okay, you're okay." Over and over again. Virgil finally stopped shaking.

He pulled away, and looked up at Thomas. Virgil noticed that he had collapsed on the floor. Thomas was kneeling just next to him. God, his brother was too good for him.

"Are you alright?" Thomas asked.

Virgil nodded, slowly. "Y-Yeah, I, uh... sorry."

Thomas shook his head. "Don't be sorry." He glanced behind him. "What happened?"

Virgil gestured around the corner. "Patton."

"Right." Thomas frowned. "I thought Patton was alright?"

"He is." He bit his lip. "But he doesn't know."

"About what?"

"Wings."

"Oh." Thomas understood - Virgil could tell. "But... why would that matter?"

Virgil didn't give him a verbal response. He gestured around the corner again, but couldn't bring himself to say anything. Couldn't bring himself to speak about how stupid he had been. Why hadn't he just _told_ Patton that he had wings? It would have been so simple. Just three words. That was all it would take.

Except, maybe a part of Virgil had believed that if Patton thought he didn't have wings, the two would get along better. There would have been something they had in common. Even though they didn't. Virgil had wings. That was fact. And he had _lied to Patton._

"Calm down," Thomas said, sensing that Virgil had begun to panic again. "I'll take the boxes over, and you start heading back home. He might be gone by the time you get back."

Virgil let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Thomas smiled. "I'll try to talk to him."

"Don't say any-"

"Yeah, yeah, don't mention the wings, I get it." He laughed. "What does he think, anyway? That you, just, don't have any?"

Virgil nodded, but didn't go into any further detail.

"Okay. Well, I'll see you later." He stood up, and grabbed the two boxes, beginning to fly towards Virgil's new apartment.

"See you."

* * *

Virgil's wings curled up around his body, and he buried his head in his knees, taking deep breaths in and out. He had mostly calmed down by the time he arrived back home, but one look at the waiting boxes had brought everything back. Not as bad as earlier that day, but he was crying. And he didn't know if he'd be able to go back out there. 

The door to his bedroom slowly opened, and a moment later arms were wrapped around his shoulders. A soft voice spoke into his ear, "Are you okay, Verge?" It was Thomas. 

Virgil nodded. "I... I'm fine." He looked up. The tears had stopped, at least, but it was clear that he had been crying. He quickly wiped his face. 

"I spoke to Patton," Thomas said, moving away from Virgil, who's heartrate had just begun to increase again. What had Thomas said? Did Patton say anything about him? Had everything been screwed up? Was there any chance of Patton ever forgiving Virgil for lying? Did Patton know about the wings? "Don't panic," Thomas quickly added. "I just told him that you had gone back home to get the other half of the boxes."

"Oh... Okay." He took a deep breath. "Anything else?"

"He said he was waiting to welcome you. He seemed pretty upset that you weren't with me, actually," Thomas said. 

"Oh."

"But he's gone out now." Thomas smiled. "Went to meet up with Logan, apparently."

"Good, he won't be there, then." That fact really did reassure Virgil. It would be fine. He would be fine. He would at least get chance to think about how he would explain it to Patton when he saw his wings. Although, the thought of Patton hanging with Logan did worry Virgil slightly. 

Thomas climbed up onto the bed, and leant against the wall, looking over at his older brother. "What actually happened back there?"

Virgil hesitated. He hadn't told Thomas about the incident - he hadn't told anybody. He supposed he had been... embarrassed, almost. Embarrassed that he couldn't even correct Patton on one tiny detail. Embarrassed that he had already screwed up his entire relationship with Patton, and they'd only actually seen each other in person once. But he couldn't keep it from Thomas. He didn't want to. 

"When we met a couple weeks ago," Virgil began, "my wings were... y'know." He looked down at the bed. 

"I know."

"Yeah. He just kinda  _assumed_ that I didn't have any, and when he mentioned it, I felt too awkward to correct him. And he doesn't have any wings himself, so he was going on about how we had that common, and I just kinda played along with it, and-"

"Breathe, Virgil," Thomas interrupted, prompting Virgil to take a deep breath. 

"Sorry, I just-"

"Don't you dare apologise."

"S- Okay." Virgil glanced up at Thomas. "I still haven't told him."

Thomas nodded. "That's fine. But... you'll have to tell him, won't you?"

"But he'll get angry at me."

Thomas frowned. "Why?"

"I... I lied to him."

"No, Virgil..." Thomas sighed. "Trust me, he seems like a nice guy. He won't mind. You had a perfectly good reason, and I'm sure Patton will understand that."

"How do you know?" Virgil asked. 

"I just do." He gave his older brother a comforting smile. "Verge, I promise everything will be fine."


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait on this guys! as y'all probably know, i did the halloween thing, and also school is a thing, so i just know found the time to write this up. hope y'all enjoy the chapter tho~

Patton jumped up onto the counter, swinging his legs back and forth as Logan shut the door behind him.

"So, Lo, what's the plan?" Patton asked.

Logan sighed. "I told you on the way here, Patton. I _also_ told you to _not_ sit on the desk."

Patton laughed. "You know me by now."

"Unfortunately so." Logan attempted to keep a straight face, but couldn't help but laugh. Patton just had that affect on him - he had that affect on _everyone_. The two had spent so much time together that Logan had gotten used to the sunshiny aura that always seemed to surround Patton, making everyone around him smile and laugh.

Considering Patton's past, Logan had no idea how he did that. Then again, Patton didn't talk about his past that much. Perhaps he had managed to put all that behind him. But the fact that Patton was still coming round to the lab at least once a week was a clear indicator that he hadn't. This entire project between the two of them was about fixing everything that had happened before, so that Patton could go on to live an ordinary life, one that he deserved. And, of course, to help with Logan's problem of his own. And to anyone else facing the same or similar problems.

Logan made his way over to the desk that Patton was sat on, and took a seat on the chair. Patton turned slightly to face him.

"Still working on the math, then?" Patton guessed.

"Yes," Logan confirmed. "I just... can't seem to understand how the _flight_ aspect works. Like, I get the science behind wings in general, but to apply it to something like _this_? It just doesn't make sense."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, Lo," Patton encouraged.

"But it's never been done before!" Logan exclaimed. "Sure, in the past we've been able to recreate wings and attach them to humans with minimal problems, but we've never been able to make _working_ wings. It's all just been for decoration."

Patton hummed. "Well, maybe we need a different approach."

Logan frowned. "What are you suggesting?"

"Maybe instead of trying to make wings that work on their own-"

A series of loud beeps cut Patton off. After quickly apologising to Patton, Logan withdrew his phone from his pocket, and checked the new messages.

 **14:09 Virgil:** _can i come round to yours tonight?_

 **14:09 Virgil:** _i need to talk._

 **14:09 Virgil:** _unless you're busy of course._

 **14:09 Virgil:** _don't tell patton_

 **14:10 Virgil:** _please_

Logan stared at his phone for a few minutes, thoughts circling around his mind. What would Virgil need to talk about so desperately? Why did it need to be at Logan's apartment? And why couldn't Patton know about it?

"Everything okay, Lo?" Patton asked, breaking the silence.

Logan slowly nodded. "Y-yeah. Just... a friend."

"Okay." Patton grinned.

"I'm just..." Logan stood up, gripping his phone tight. "I'll be back in a moment."

He left the room, which Patton didn't seem to mind about. At least, Logan heard no protests as he made his exit. He quickly tapped on Virgil's contact and held his phone up to his ear. Thankfully, Virgil picked up on the second ring.

"Hey," he said, far too casually. Logan could hear the worry behind his voice - he was fooling _no one._

"Virgil, are you alright?" Logan asked.

"Yeah, why?"

Logan sighed. "Why do you _think_ I'm asking if you're okay?"

There was a long silence. "Okay, yeah, I know." Another long silence. "Is Patton there?"

"He's in the other room," Logan said, causing Virgil to sigh in relief, "but I don't see why he shouldn't know that you want to visit me tonight. He is your roommate, Virgil. Wouldn't he find out anyway? Or couldn't you just talk to _him_ tonight?"

"He's what I want to talk about."

"Oh."

"So?" Virgil said. "Can I?"

"Of course, Virgil."

"Thank you."

* * *

Virgil's heart stopped pounding a couple moments after Logan hung up. For the past half an hour, he had been sat in his new room, completely empty other than the sheet-less bed and piles of cardboard boxes against the wall. He supposed he should have started unpacking, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything. Not when Patton could return at any moment. He had no reason to go back to Thomas now, since he already moved everything over here, meaning he had no reason to leave the apartment at all. At least hanging out with Logan would give him an excuse to get out, away from Patton. Maybe they wouldn't even have to see each other.

Not that Virgil didn't _want_ to see Patton. He couldn't have been more excited about the move. With the short amount of time that the two had spent together, Virgil had already grown to like him. As a friend, he supposed. Maybe.

Hopefully.

There really shouldn't have been any reason for Virgil to be anxious about Patton returning home. Thomas had been right - Patton didn't seem like the type of guy to care. Surely he would understand why Virgil had lied to him on their first meeting, right? It would be so, so simple to explain. And yet, he still hadn't. And didn't want to.

Maybe it wasn't too late to take up Logan's offer of moving in with him. In that moment, Virgil thought that would be the best option. He could always just sleep on the couch.

No. He had come too far, now. He would be fine living here. Once he came clean to Patton, everything would turn out just _fine_.

Virgil checked the time on his phone. 14:28. Much too early to go to Logan's. He glanced at the boxes in the corner, knowing that he should probably fill up that time by unpacking, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Maybe because if he unpacked, then it would be official that he moved in, and he still wasn't sure if he was ready to make that commitment.

He scrolled through various social medias for a short while. Mostly Tumblr. Except, he wasn't really paying attention to any of the writing. Sighing, he locked his phone, and threw it across to the other end of his bed. His bare bed. God, what was he doing?

He stood up and made his way to the other end of the room, where the boxes were stacked up. He remembered that just before he left, he made sure that his headphones were safely packed at the top of the first box, which was exactly where he found them. Great. He was _not_ leaving the house (or apartment, now) without his headphones again.

Virgil returned to his bed, picked up his phone, plugged in his headphones, and set his music to shuffle. The angelic vocals of Brendon Urie filled his ears. Sure, he couldn't go to Logan's, but taking a walk wouldn't hurt, would it? At the very least, it would probably help clear some of his thoughts. Better yet, since his wings were still cooperating (despite this being the one time that he didn't _want_ them to cooperate), he could even take a little fly around the city! That always helped to calm him down.

Lifting his feet off the ground, Virgil began to float out of the apartment and down into the street. The apartment was on the bottom floor, which made sense, considering Patton's lack of wings, so it wasn't difficult to quickly escape from the enclosed space. That was good, Virgil decided. It meant that in the future if he ever needed to make a quick escape, he had an easy way to do so. Both from inside the apartment or from the streets.

Virgil zoned out as he flew and flew. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going, or who was around. As long as he was in the air and lost in his music, Virgil knew he could relax. He was safe. He didn't need to think about what would happen later, with both Patton _and_ Logan.

After flying for God-knows-how-long, Virgil landed in the park, a place that he had always found calming. Assuming there was no people, of course. Not many people came to this park, anyway. Virgil had never understood that - it was honestly so nice in the park. There was just something pleasant in the air, something warm, something that made Virgil feel welcome. The flowers lining the path as he approached the trees spread out across the distance, the wildlife chirping happily as he walked through the sun-lit forest, the gentle breeze running through the leaves and through his hair.

Eventually, he came across the bench that he had claimed for himself a year or so ago. As usual, nobody else was sat there, or even anywhere near. From his seat on the bench, Virgil looked out at the fountain sitting in the centre of the clearing, the sunlight reflecting against the crystal-clear water. He couldn't help but smile at the beautiful sight. Yet another reason why he loved the park - everything was just so _pretty_.

Virgil was snapped out of his trance as somebody sat down next to him. Startled, he shuffled to the side, and looked down at the floor, trying his best to not catch the strangers eyes. When had somebody approached? Why had they chosen to sit _directly_ next to Virgil with all of these other spare seats? Why weren't they moving?

They were speaking to Virgil, but Virgil couldn't hear them. Why couldn't he hear them? What were they saying? Was it important? Did they think Virgil was being rude, ignoring them?

Oh, right. His headphones. That would explain why he couldn't hear them.

Virgil slipped his headphones off, resting them around his neck, and looked over at the stranger. No, not a stranger. He had seen them before, somewhere. But _where_?

"Hey Virgil," they said.

Talyn. That was it. They were that stranger from before, the one who stopped him in the street to ask him about his wings. He gave them a weak smile.

"Hey," he greeted in response. "Talyn, right?"

Talyn nodded. "Yup! I saw you sitting alone, and thought you might want some company," they said. "I can leave if you want me too, though."

Virgil shook his head. "N-no, it's fine."

"Are you okay?" they asked.

"Yeah," Virgil lied. "Are you?"

"Never," they joked, "but, yeah, right now I'm okay."

There was silence between the two of them. Neither knew the other all that well, so the silence was already a given. That didn't make it any less awkward, though.

"Nice wings," Talyn finally said. "Beautiful, actually. They're so... big."

Virgil let out a huff that could be loosely described as a laugh. "I know, probably not what you were expecting."

Talyn just smiled. "That doesn't make them any less beautiful."

"They're _plain white_ ," Virgil replied, not believing Talyn's statement. "So many other people have these exact same wings. Perhaps not as big, but plain white wings aren't that rare. Or beautiful."

Talyn hummed. "Maybe you could dye them. I know people who have done that."

Virgil considered that for a moment. "You can do that?"

"Well, yeah. People dye their hair, why would wings be any different?"

They had a point.

"But if you don't want to, then that's also great," Talyn continued. "They still looked beautiful just as they are."

Virgil wasn't entirely sure how to respond. He took a deep breath. "I, uh- You're hair is nice, as well."

Talyn laughed. "Thank you." They stood up. "I gotta go now, though. So..." They handed Virgil a slip of paper. "If you wanted any more information on the dye, here's my number. I work at a salon that do hair and wing dye."

Virgil nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

Talyn smiled. "See ya around."

Virgil gave them a small salute, and watched them walk away.

* * *

Logan walked back into the room, and returned to his desk, ignoring Patton's confused stare. It was really no business of Patton's, so why would he need to be confused by it? Then again, according to Virgil's words, the entire thing was _about_ Patton, so maybe...

No. Logan couldn't tell Patton, and in turn betray his friend's trust. Everything would go just fine. Patton probably wouldn't even ask - he was good at knowing when and when not he should ask questions. So, instead, Patton just forced out a smile.

"You need any help with anything?" Patton asked, jumping off the table.

Logan hummed. "You can go get the bottle from last time."

Patton nodded. "Okay!"

Logan listened to his friend's footsteps as he skipped across the room, and a moment later a bottle filled with water, and containing a single black feather, was laid in front of him. Nothing had changed from the week before. Logan knew that if it wasn't in the water, it would have disintegrated by now.

"Anything else?" Patton asked.

"You can take off that ridiculous cap," Logan suggested.

Patton seemed taken aback by that statement, which Logan could understand.

"It's only us in here," Logan pointed out.

Patton sighed. "Y-yeah, I know, but-"

"The doors are locked," Logan continued. "There are no windows or cameras. Nobody would be able to see. Also, I may need them for later."

After a moment of hesitation, Patton slipped off his cap and placed it on the desk below, revealing two tiny ebony horns nestled into his pink-and-purple hair.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, i am so so sorry for the long wait for this chapter. life has been hectic with school and the month of december and exams and stuff, and also some other projects that i'm working on for y'all, but here is a chapter of flightless whilst i have the time (kinda) and motivation to write this. hopefully the next chapter shouldn't take too long haha. hope y'all enjoy :)

Virgil leant back, with his foot propped up against the wall. He knew that Logan hadn't gotten home yet, since he had already flown up himself to see. So instead, Virgil had decided to stay down in the lobby for a while until Logan returned, which shouldn't be too long, hopefully. At the very least, it was entertaining to watch people walk around the lobby. People watching had always been one of Virgil's favourite past times.

A man with wings almost identical to Virgil's walked up to the desk at the front. Huge, beautiful white wings - looking at the man, he could almost see the appeal to those kind of wings. And, looking a little closer, Virgil could swear he saw hints of red around the feathers. Interesting - perhaps that dye-offer that Talyn had given to him didn't sound that bad.

But the longer Virgil stared at the man, the more he realised that things were not going well.

"Look, I-"

"I'm telling you, it's not dangerous at all," the woman behind the desk said, sounding almost exasperated. "If you want, we can get somebody to escort you round?"

"I don't need escorting!" the man exclaimed. "I need another way to get up there!"

"Look, sir, there's nothing we can do."

"Surely there's something-"

The woman just shook her head. "I'm really sor-"

"Don't apologise to me! Just fix the goddamn problem!"

There was silence for a moment. Everybody else in the lobby had set their attention on the two. Virgil couldn't help but wonder what the problem had been in the first place.

"Sir, if you're not going to be cooperative, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the woman finally said.

The man just stared at her in disbelief. "All of my things are up there. All my equipment, clothing, everything. Can you not even move me to another room?"

"That was the only room available, we've told you-"

"Do you even _know_ who I-"

"Sir," she snapped, "please leave the building."

Completely silence fell upon the room. It was as if the entire world had just paused, stopped at that moment, like it was going to end then and there. Virgil held his breath. Until the man turned and left, and everything went back to normal.

His phone buzzed in his hands - a message from Logan.

**16:49 Logan:** _I've arrived at home._

Virgil glanced over at the stairs, and then out the door. He couldn't help but feel as if something was wrong. As if that man had needed help. As if _Virgil_ needed to help him. Part of him just wanted to follow him out there and see if he was alright, if Virgil could help him. He had obviously had a problem, possibly something to do with flying, which Virgil knew all about. And the woman behind the desk hadn't attempted to help him in any way...

Then again, _feeling as if something was wrong_ was just Virgil's constant state of being. Maybe the man would be fine and Virgil was just overreacting.

Unless...

**16:52 Me:** _something happened down here, some dude got into some trouble or something, going to check if he is ok_

Virgil put his phone back in his pocket and exited the building, looking around for any signs of that mysterious man. His phone buzzed again, but he ignored it, instead shooting up into the air and down the street. It didn't take him long to spot a familiar pair of white wings. The man had sat on a bench on the side of the street, his head in his hands.

"Hey," Virgil said, floating down to the floor. "You okay, dude?"

The man looked up and scowled. "What do you want? An autograph? Is it _that_ hard to leave a guy alone?"

Virgil frowned, taken aback by his reaction. "Uh... I..." He cleared his throat. "I saw you back at the apartment block. Thought you, uh, might need some help, or something."

The man just stared at him. "So... you don't... you don't know who I am?"

Virgil blinked. "I've never seen you before today."

He let out a sigh. "You know, I've only come across one other person who hasn't recognised me."

"...okay?" Virgil looked him up and down - nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that sprung to mind. "What's your name?"

"Roman. And yours?"

"Virgil."

"Virgil," Roman repeated, smiling. "Hey, _Virgil_ was the name of some _Roman_ poet. Isn't that neat?"

Virgil blew a huff of air out his nose in what could loosely be described as a laugh. "Yeah, I guess that makes us basically soulmates."

Roman let out a hearty laugh. "Platonic soulmates, of course. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another man."

"Oh really?" Virgil smirked. "And who might that be?"

Roman hesitated. "Well, uh, I'm not _quite_ sure yet, but once I see him, I'll know."

Virgil sat down next to Roman, bringing his feet up onto the bench. "What, so you believe in love at first sight?"

"Of course." He smiled. "Why would you not?"

"I don't know. Maybe because love isn't that simple."

"Who said it was simple?"

"If you fall in love with someone after just meeting them, you're not in love." Virgil looked over at Roman. "You don't know the person well enough to understand your feelings. You have to... get to know them. Let it all happen naturally."

Roman hummed. "That sounds boring, though."

Virgil shrugged. "Can't argue with that. People are hard." He set his feet back down on the ground. "Anyway, I came here to see if you needed help."

Roman groaned. "Look, what happened back there was _not_ my fault. I _specifically_ told the management there that I needed a room with access from the stairs."

"Why? Surely with those _amazing_ wings-"

"I'm not the best flyer," he interrupted, "and you'd _better_ not tell anybody that." He sighed. "I just... What would they do if that exact same situation happened to a person without wings?"

"They'd probably kick that person out," Virgil said, without even thinking. "I mean, in my experience-" He caught himself before continuing, realising what he was about to say. "-from, uh, watching other people, the guys in that place are always giving wingless people dirty looks, and stuff. It sucks, y'know?"

"Ha, tell me about it." His eyes widened. "I-I mean, it does suck. Like, those people have done nothing to deserve that."

Virgil tried to shake away the feeling that Roman was hiding something, instead plastering a smile onto his face. "Glad we can agree. But, uh, we should probably tried to fix this problem of yours."

Roman took a deep breath in, and let a deep breath out. "How? I can't just walk back in there. And I can't explain it, either. If they- If they find out _why_ I can't fly up there, my whole _career_ could be ruined." He locked eyes with Virgil. "If _anyone_ finds out that I'm-" he brought his voice down to a whisper- "not the best flyer, I'm basically dead."

"Okay, drama queen, we'll figure out a way to get you a room without letting out your biggest secret."

Virgil wondered for a moment why he was helping this stranger - having to get him up to the apartment without letting the secret get out seemed like a lot of work, which Virgil wasn't particularly keen on, and he still had no idea why it was so important that people don't know that this man couldn't fly well. Then again, when the two had first spoke Roman had seemed to act as if he was famous, or something. Like a lot of people knew who he was. And Virgil wouldn't have been surprised if his wings had something to do with the fame, since Roman cared so much about them. Whatever the case, he didn't want to let this man down, and Virgil had no idea why he felt that way.

Virgil took his phone out of his pocket, noticing that he had received a fair amount of messages from Logan.

**16:53 Logan:** _What do you mean? What happened?_

**16:54 Logan:** _I just saw you leave the building. Please message me to let me know if you're okay._

**17:05 Logan:** _It's been over ten minutes and you still haven't responded, are you okay?_

**17:06 Logan:** _Wait, I just heard that there was some problem with some singer down in the lobby, is that anything to do with what's happening?_

Virgil glanced up at the time - 17:24. Logan hadn't sent him anymore texts.

Roman leant over Virgil's shoulder. "Who's that?"

Virgil jerked his phone away. "A friend. He lives in the apartment block that you were just in."

"A friend, huh?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Yes!" Virgil exclaimed. "A friend! Nothing more!"

Roman looked almost disappointed. "Well, if he's _just_ a friend, why were you in the lobby?"

"I was waiting for him to get home. To visit him. Y'know, like friends do." He began to type out a response.

"And _why_ are you texting him now when we should be figuring out how to get me into my apartment?"

Virgil pressed 'send'. "To see if he can help."

**17:26 Virgil:** _hey lo. idk if it's that singer guy you were talking about but he needs helps. any chance i could bring him back to your apartment?_

Roman skimmed through the message. "You think this guy can help?"

Virgil shrugged. "He's dedicated his entire life to helping people who, uh, 'aren't the best flyers', I guess. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help."

His phone bleeped, signalling a reply from Logan.

**17:27 Logan:** _I suppose I can see what I can do. Feel free to bring him up._

"And look at that, he said yes. Let's go." Virgil stood up and lifted himself into the air, beginning to make his way down the street. Roman looked up at him, helplessly.

"Hey, uh, Virgil?" he called. "Remember how I said that I 'wasn't the best flyer'? And how you said this guy 'helps out people who aren't the best flyers'?"

Virgil turned around. "Oh, right, uh..." He held out his hand. "Here, I'll help you."

Roman frowned. "You'll... what?"

"Take my hand and I'll help you fly up there."

"Why are we flying there?" he asked. "Can't we just walk?"

"I'd rather not risk walking into the lobby with you and getting kicked out again. We can reach my friend's apartment without walking through the building."

"But I can't fly."

"You can if you're holding my hand."

"What if you drop me? What if I'm too heavy?"

Virgil sighed, and landed on the pavement. "Look, I was the best flyer in class at school. I'm the best flyer in my family, in my friend group, even in my university class now. I'm training to do search and rescue in the airforce, which literally requires helping people who struggle to fly by helping them to fly to get out of danger, which is basically what I'm offering to do now. So-" he held out his hand- "do you trust me?"

Roman took in a deep breath, clearly still unsure, but took his hand anyway. "Okay. Off we go?"

Virgil smirked, and shot into the air, dragging Roman along behind them. They soon came high enough to feel the cool wind against their faces, to feel the breeze stroking through their hair, through their wings as they surged forward. Glancing over at Roman, Virgil noticed that he was smiling, laughing with glee. Maybe Roman had never experienced this before. Maybe he couldn't fly at all, and this was his first experience in the air. Virgil _knew_ how special that could be.

"This is _amazing_!" Roman exclaimed. "Is this how it always feels? Why don't people _talk_ about this more?"

"Most people take flying for granted," Virgil replied, slowing down a little to allow himself to navigate the city. "They forget how fantastic it can be. Which is why people who struggle with flying probably have it better - they never forget the feeling."

Roman hummed. "But people who _can_ fly actually get to _do_ this."

"True. But when those who can't always are finally able to, they find it to be the best feeling in the world." He looked back at Roman. "Speaking from personal experience."

Roman frowned. "I thought you said you were a good flyer? The _best_ flyer, actually."

Virgil nodded. "Yeah. But also I have an issue that means sometimes I can't fly. I'm working on it, trust me, but on days like this when I can fly to my hearts content..." He smiled. "I can never forget how great it feels."

Why he was opening up to this complete stranger, Virgil didn't know. But what he _did_ know was that he could trust this man, and if he wanted to help him, Roman would have to trust him as well. If that wasn't a good reason to tell Roman the truth, Virgil didn't know what was.

If he was able to open up to Roman so easily, then surely he could do the same to Patton. That was it - he _had_ to tell Patton, tonight.

The two landed on Logan's balcony, Roman still smiling like crazy. But then when he stepped into the apartment and laid eyes on Logan, his smile faded.

"Logan? The guy from the theatre? Is- Is that you?"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Prince Roman. Fancy seeing you here."


End file.
